Resistance
by GlassCaseOfEmotion
Summary: The Occupation is in its darkest years and no Bajoran is safe. This is the story of the connecting lives, fights and romances of the Prefect's mistress, the future First Minister, the rising leader of one of the most violent resistance cells and a familiar vedek and the fight for independence.
1. Chapter 1

Everybody with half a brain and any kind of common sense knew to stay away from the rundown shabby little bar on the corner of Helma Square. After nightfall the place was filled with all kinds of people considered offensive by the typical Bajoran: collaborators drowning their guilt with ale, low ranking soldiers and the prostitutes they frequented.

So it was with good reason that Tora Naprem stood shaking her head, her arms crossed, her feet planted firmly on the ground on the street opposite the infamous bar.

"Not in a million years."

"I know it's not going to look good if we're seen there but-"

"It won't look good?" she exclaimed incredulously, sticking her hands on her hips. "Biran, I can't believe you!" She lowered her voice as a couple passing them by on the street gave her a sidelong glance. Stepping closer to her companion, Naprem hissed, "You know what people are going to assume the second I walk through those doors. What the _kosst_ are you thinking?"

Biran regarded the smaller woman for a few moments before sighing. "I need your help."

"There's a surprise."

He scratched his chin through the dark stubble. "I need you to distract the Cardassians in there. I've got a job to do… one that I don't want them seeing."

"Well now I understand why you gave me your water tokens this morning," Naprem replied, rolling her eyes. "You can forget it, not after last time."

The door to the bar opened, letting the noise and laughter spill out into the quiet square, as a small group of clearly drunken Cardassians stumbled out into the fresh air. Biran took Naprem's arm and pulled her into the shadows.

"Naprem, I know I'm asking a lot," he whispered urgently, "but this needs to happen. I'm meeting someone in there, someone who has information I need. All I need you to do is create some sort of distraction for ten minutes and then we can leave. I won't let anything happen, I promise you that."

"Oh and what exactly are you going to be able to do against a crowd of armed soldiers?" she asked scornfully, but her expression softened. She knew how much his budding resistance cell – currently consisting of him, his cousin Ma, his brother and a couple of other men from the village – meant to him and she already knew she couldn't say no. Letting out a loud sigh, she ran a hand through her blonde curls. "All right. But ten minutes and no more, understand?"

His face lit up and he nodded. "Understood."

**oOoOo**

Naprem lifted her mug of ale from the bar with a mutter of thanks and turned to survey the crowd. Biran had disappeared, no doubt sitting in some dark corner with his mysterious contact. The lighting was low – to suit the comfort of its reptilian patrons – and the air was hot and musty. She sighed inwardly and took a gulp from her mug. The alcohol burned the back of her throat and made her eyes water slightly, but she grit her teeth with resolve. Time to make a show.

With a deliberate swing in her hips, she set off towards the group of soldiers sitting in the centre. Planting a smile on her lips, she hurriedly rehearsed her opening line as she approached. Her mouth was dry and she licked her lips anxiously, taking another drink. Almost there, each step increased the dread building inside. She had been right before; there really was nothing Biran could do (save getting them both killed) to protect her, should things get dangerous.

Suddenly, Naprem found herself lurching violently forwards, her shoe having caught in a loose floorboard and landing sprawled across the lap of a Bajoran man sitting close by. Immediately an uproar of laughter came from the Cardassians and she scrambled to her feet, red-faced and stuttering apologies. To his credit, the man stood and offered her his seat with a smile.

"I think you need it more than I do. Maybe slow down on the ale?" he jibed gently.

Naprem glared at him. "I'm not drunk, I tripped."

He held his hands up in a placating gesture but his smile told another story and Naprem felt herself becoming increasingly indignant. "You can keep your seat, I don't need it."

"No, you prefer to sit in strangers' laps," he replied. His companion, an older, more heavy-set man let out a bark of laughter.

"Leave her be, Shakaar, she's not interested in us. You can't afford her," he said, clearly having noticed her intended destination and come to his own conclusion – admittedly one that wasn't far from the truth but riled her temper anyway.

"You're damn right you couldn't afford me," she said, her voice heavy with disgust and this time it was Shakaar who laughed at the look on his friend's face.

"Well we won't intrude on your business," he said, moving to take the seat he had just vacated, he murmured into her ear, "And tell Kohn, the man he's meeting is a drunk. Whatever information he's passing on is probably what he dreamt last night while he was sleeping out in the alley. Stay safe."

He took his seat, leaving Naprem standing alone and unsure.

**oOoOo**

Biran and Naprem walked home in silence. The night air was cool and made her shiver and pull her thin jacket around her tightly.

"I can't believe that arrogant bastard," Biran muttered, breaking the quietness.

"He was trying to help," Naprem replied softly. "Was he right?"

"Of course he's right, he's always right," he said bitterly. "The old man was talking nonsense, I risked both of us for nothing. I looked like a fool."

She linked her arm through his and squeezed. "You aren't a fool. Well, not all the time anyway. You weren't to know your contact was unreliable." She paused. "How do you know Shakaar?"

Biran bristled at the name again. "It's a long story, one that I don't want to relive. Believe me when I say that he's no one worth knowing."

"Hmm," Naprem murmured.

Biran stopped dead in his tracks, forcing Naprem to stop next to him.

"What?" she whispered. He motioned her to be quiet and strained to listen to something in the distance.

"There's a patrol coming," he replied in a low voice. "We need to get off the road before they catch up to us."

Her heart started thudding in her chest and she nodded as he led her into the woods next to the dirt track. Twigs cracked loudly under their feet, making her jump, as they moved further into the cover the trees provided. Naprem could hear the voices now, getting closer to their hiding spot. Biran swore softly.

"They're tracking us," he hissed. He grabbed her hand and pulled her on. Branches whipped at her face, leaving stinging red marks across her skin and she thought she could hear crashing in the undergrowth behind them.

"Biran-" she gasped, burning pain starting in her legs as they kept running. The soldiers were gaining on them. A disruptor blast echoed loudly and Naprem let out a shriek, instinctively letting go of Biran and covering her head. There was no way they could escape… she couldn't run any faster and distance between them was growing shorter and shorter until… this time, she screamed loudly as a hand grabbed her and pulled her down. In the dark she couldn't see what was going on and she gasped for breath desperately as she tried to get to her feet, only to be pushed roughly back down again._ Prophets protect us… I'm going to die._


	2. Chapter 2

**I had originally intended for Shakaar to be the one who had grabbed Naprem and they end up with that resistance cell... but it wasn't very interesting and it was going to take a while for Naprem to end up on Terok Nor. So I changed it to what you are about to read!**

* * *

It had been three months since she had been pushed into the back of a transport and brought to the detention centre. Two months since she'd spoken to Biran. Three days since her last interrogation.

After the guards had caught up to them in the forest, Naprem had been sure her life was over. Some days she wished it had been. They'd beaten Biran until he was almost unrecognisable and she was screaming for them to stop, then transported them to Seclat. The facility was infamous in Dakhur Province; spoken of in hushed tones and looked upon as a fate worse than death.

She'd been separated from Biran and tossed into a communal cell with fifteen other frightened women who were awaiting interrogation. Nobody spoke to her, fearing implication in whatever crime she had been charged with. And then they came for her.

First came humiliation. Two hulking glinns had ripped off her dirty clothes, their hands lingering on her exposed flesh as their Gul looked in in disinterest. She had screamed as they marked her, branding the Kardasi symbols into her skin which erupted with blisters. It was the first noise Naprem had made since she arrived at the prison and it elicited the first smile from the Gul.

The guards dragged her over to a long metal table in the centre of the dark room and pushed her down, easily restraining her as she fought the urge to vomit as the pain in her arm burned fiercely.

"You know why you are here." The Gul looked down at her as he spoke in accented Bajoran.

_Because I am a Bajoran,_ she thought, but kept her lips clamped shut.

He looked down at a padd he carried in his hand. "You were detained inside the Kepla forest. What were you doing there?"

Her heart thumped wildly against her chest. What could she say? _I was running because I was out past curfew attempting to seduce your men. _"I... I was walking with my friend."

"Why did you run?" His tone was casual, almost bored, as if he had naked Bajorans strapped down in front of him every day. _Which he probably does._ A shiver ran through her body despite the high temperature in the room. He noticed and gave that horrible thin-lipped smile again before starting to walk slowly around the table.

"Answer the question."

"I was scared."

"What had you done that made you feel so scared?" The Gul's voice dripped with condescension now.

"I... nothing. We were just walking." Naprem's voice rose with desperation as she tried to twist her head round to follow him. "I haven't done anything!"

"Which terrorist cell were you attempting to meet?" His tone had returned to bored.

"None! I'm not a part of any resistance cell, I'm a teacher in the village," she blurted out.

"An excellent way of recruiting children to your cause, I'm sure," he replied.

"I told you, I have no cause, I belong to no resistance cell."

"Enough." He tossed the padd away and picked up something else. "Tell me, girl, do you know what this is?" He held the instrument up for her inspection. It was about the same length as the padd but cylindrical with three red lights at the end. Naprem's mouth went dry and she shook her head, though she could guess.

"In that case, let me show you."

He activated the device and pressed it hard into the open palm of her right hand. Before she could stop herself, Naprem let out a scream of undisguised agony. The metal was so hot she could feel it sinking through her skin as it sent shocks up and down her arm. After a minute, he relented and released the pressure. Naprem collapsed against the table, sweat beading on her forehead, as the smell of burning flesh grew stronger. Too scared to look at the damage, she tried to flex her fingers.

"Do you need a repeat demonstration?" he asked coldly.

Naprem stifled a sob and shook her head.

"Speak, girl!"

"N-No," she managed, "Please, I don't know anything."

Through the haze of pain she saw a red light on the wall blinking and the Gul sighed before disappearing from view. He was talking to someone over the com link she realised but the conversation was too faint for her to hear. Closing her eyes, she murmured a quick calming prayer, hoping anything would help relieve the pain that still held her entire arm in its white hot grip. Why was he so convinced she was a resistance fighter? She had no criminal record, no previous arrests, nothing that would suggest she be a part of anything like that. _Except Biran. _Had they broken him? As strong as he was, Naprem couldn't imagine anyone holding up under hours or even days of this kind of torture. She let out an involuntary sob. He was probably dead.

Heavy boots hitting the stone floor tore her away from self-pity and she was soon released from the restraints and hauled onto her feet where she swayed unsteadily. The Gul was gone and the two guards who had brought her in had returned. Had they decided she wasn't worth interrogating after all? Were they simply going to execute her, as they probably already had done with Biran? A bundle of cloth was shoved into her arms, she winced as it scraped over her burns.

"Put it on," the nearest guard ordered.

Trembling, she pulled the tunic over her head and pulled it down. It stopped halfway down her thighs, by no means modest, but at least gave her the illusion of dignity.

The guards marched her through the corridors. It was a different way, she was sure of it. A cold dread ran through her body. How would she face death? she wondered. Would she hold her head high in defiance, or break down once she saw the disruptors pointing at her?

They finally stopped next to a huge set of doors and the first guard barked an order into his comm link. The doors opened slowly, revealing not the execution chamber she was expecting, but a transport ship being loaded up with her fellow prisoners. Shoved forwards roughly, she joined the end of the line of Bajorans shuffling slowly into the holding area at the back of the ship.

"Where are they taking us?" she whispered to the woman next to her, a tiny thing who couldn't be much older than her.

"I don't know... but the rumour is they want more slave labour for Terok Nor," she answered fearfully. Her eyes widened like saucers as she saw Naprem's injuries. "By the Prophets!"

Naprem forced herself to look down at her hand and felt bile rush up in her throat. A wide circle of flesh was charred and blackened in the centre of her palm, large angry blisters had risen up across the un-scorched skin and blood stained her fingers. It was obvious that it needed urgent medical attention... not that the Cardies cared, she thought darkly. If it got infected... it didn't bear thinking about.

Eventually the prisoners were all inside and the doors were sealed. There was no room to sit, everyone was packed together so tightly they could hardly breathe.

"Have you seen my friend?" she asked the woman, who had introduced herself as Nari. "He's tall, dark hair, beard and-"

"With an attitude that would challenge a pagh-wraith?" Nari finished with a ghost of a smile. "He was in pretty bad shape for a while, but they sent him on a transport last week. "

Naprem's shoulders sagged with relief. "So he's alive?"

"Well... he was last week," Nari said with an apologetic smile.

So she would have at least one friend on Terok Nor, assuming that's where they were all headed. And of course, that was assuming Biran hadn't gotten himself killed by now...

* * *

**So do you think I made the right decision with this chapter? The next one will be the introduction of a very familiar face so stay tuned!**


	3. Chapter 3

Naprem first started noticing the woman hovering around the ghetto fences in her second week onboard Terok Nor. She wasn't as dirty or gaunt as the rest of them, a fact that made Naprem automatically keep her distance, and she always seemed to be searching for someone, her eyes roaming the crowds of labourers swarming around the ration station. She dismissed this mystery woman for several weeks before her curiosity won out and she began asking around.

Nari knew less than she did, having not even noticed the woman before Naprem pointed her out one evening. A quick look up and down and she had made her mind up with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Looks like a collaborator to me. One of the spoonhead's whores. Pay no attention."

"You don't know that for sure," Naprem argued half-heartedly, though her first thought had been the same.

Nari just shrugged and went back to her soup.

Several other people gave similar answers. No one seemed to know or care who the woman was, or what she was doing in a ghetto she clearly didn't belong in. Her mission to discover the brunette's identity came to a sudden stop in the fifth week of her labour sentence when a familiar man came bounding through the crowd to sweep her up into a possessively tight hug.

"Biran, put me down you big idiot!" she spluttered, laughing as she squeezed him back with equal fervour.

"I've been looking for you for weeks!" he said after he'd finally put her back on her feet, "Timor told me yesterday he'd seen you down in ore processing." He looked at her bandaged hand and asked in a quieter voice: "What happened down there?"

Naprem shook her head. "Nothing that probably didn't happen to you. How long have you been here?"

"Prophets know, I lost count weeks ago." His face was serious now, he looked more like the old Biran. "I'm happy to see you. I ... was worried."

"Have some faith in me," she said in a mock rebuke. He didn't smile and she knew what he was thinking; no amount of faith could protect her from a unit of Cardassians determined to get information from her by any means possible.

Clearing her throat uncomfortably, she looked down at her feet. "I'm happy to see you as well."

**oOoOo**

Days went by and turned into weeks. As pleased as she was to have Biran back, Naprem was exhausted and unhappy. She missed her old life; the time when she could feel the grass beneath her feet and the sun on her face. Her parents would be worried sick for her, perhaps they had already given her up for dead. She missed them as well as the children. She was no labourer; from the age of fifteen she had been working in the school room teaching the younger children to read and write and she missed them with an ache deep in her heart. No one in the ghetto was interested in teaching their children to read. What good was literacy when every day was a struggle just to survive the soaring temperatures and random beatings? Everyone kept to themselves, wary of any stranger that struck up conversation, and she couldn't blame them, not when people were being dragged away by the Cardassians every week. 'Keep your head down, keep out of trouble' was Nari's mantra and one Naprem was fast to adopt.

So when the mystery woman approached her one night as she sat alone by the fence, it was something of an unwelcome surprise.

"Do you mind if I sit with you?" she asked, her voice soft.

_Almost as soft as her hands look, _a little voice, sounding suspiciously like Biran whispered in her mind.

"Oh... no, go ahead," Naprem replied motioning to the empty space next to her.

She took the proffered seat on the floor and crossed her legs under her. Silence stretched on for several minutes before Naprem gave in and turned to face her.

"Who are you?" she asked bluntly. The woman raised an eyebrow and Naprem continued, "I see you around all the time but no one knows who you are."

"Something I should be thankful for, I suppose." The woman pursed her lips. "My name is Meru. I stay on the other side of the station."

"Oh." Naprem chewed her lip, pondering the implications of that statement. "Then why are you always here?"

Meru let out a small chuckle, but it was bitter and humourless. "You wouldn't understand."

Naprem regarded her for a moment then acquiesced, "No, probably not."

Again, silence fell between them, lasting until Naprem awkwardly cleared her throat and said, "I'm Tora Naprem."

Meru turned and smiled and Naprem was struck by how sincere it was. Pity washed over her. What kind of life must she be living to look that happy just to be spoken to civilly? They sat together for another hour, mostly spent in silence with the occasional bout of small talk, before Meru said she had to leave, with all the reluctance of a vedek walking into a brothel.

"I'll see you again?" she asked and Naprem nodded before she could stop herself. Meru smiled again.

"It was nice to meet you, Tora Naprem."

As the older woman turned and started walking away, Naprem felt a hand brush her shoulder and turned to look up into Biran's eyes.

"This isn't a good idea," he warned quietly.

"I think I can make my own decisions, thank you very much," she replied. He withdrew and Naprem turned to see Meru vanishing through the crowds. She hated it when Biran was right.

**oOoOo**

Her random trips down to the ghetto fence became almost a lifeline for Kira Meru. Trapped in her quarters for weeks on end with only Dukat or that little weasel Basso for company, she felt like she was clinging desperately onto sanity for dear life. She missed the company of other Bajorans and other women, but Dukat's solution of plucking a woman at random from the crowds of workers only made her feel worse as she was forced to spend hours in uncomfortable, accusatory silence while trying to ignore the fact that they were not there solely to be a companion for just her. She would be a fool to believe that. After all, she wasn't getting any younger. And if it helped Dukat's conscience to fool himself into believing he was doing it just for Meru's benefit, well, who was she to argue with the Prefect?

And so, two or three times a week on the pretence that she had Dukat's blessing, she would march calmly past the guards with her head held high until she came to the fences which separated her from her kin. Meru was not naive, she had fully expected the suspicious glares and the turned backs. Even with her attempts to blend in she knew she stood out from the dirty malnourished ore processing workers, nearly seven years of easy living could not be so easily hidden, but she refused to give in.

When she met Naprem, she knew there was something different about her. She reminded her a little of Luma, the flame haired woman who had befriended her back when she first arrived on Terok Nor, terrified and heartbroken. Despite what had happened later, Meru had deeply valued that short-lived friendship... ironically, in the beginning it had kept her alive. And now, when she needed someone else the Prophets had led her to this strange girl with the blonde curls and scarred hands. All Meru needed to do was keep her away from Dukat.

It was on her return to their quarters from her fourth visit to Naprem that things started to go very wrong for Kira Meru.

* * *

**Reviews, favourites and follows are always greatly appreciated :) Please let me know how the story is progressing. The next chapter will have a lot more action as most characters have now been introduced. Thanks for bearing with me while I get the slow moving chapters out of the way!**


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